Brackium Emendo
by Ixe
Summary: [A DG fic] Ginny's summer is interrupted when Draco Malfoy shows up at headquarters. They return to Hogwarts, each with a mission from the Order. Working together, they get a bit more than they bargained for. [Updated: 12-26-14][Rating may be raised later]


**Disclaimer: I love JKR and the Harry Potter series more than life. Yet sadly, I don't own them**.

**Warnings (I'll add to this list as we go): Language, blood, eventually sexual things**

**Prologue:**

The sudden July heat wave had everyone in the Order stripping down to the minimum. Though periodic cooling spells helped a bit, no one could keep up with the sheer weight of the air. Ginny lounged in one of the giant armchairs that occupied the main floor den. She twisted her hair off her perspiring neck, watching her mother replenishing the cooling spells. "Can I come to the meeting tomorrow?"

"No, dear," Molly Weasley replied, glancing back at her. "You know that." She did. Still, she found herself asking the same question twice a week, every week.

Living at Number 12, Grimmauld Place was one long, mind-numbingly boring routine. Every day, Ginny woke up, got dressed, had her breakfast, and spent the rest of the day finding ways to entertain herself. She had already moved through her summer school work and polished off most of Sirius' less-than-extensive library. The only excitement came with the bi-weekly Order meetings - which she was strictly not allowed to attend. Twice a week, Ginny found herself kneeling on a landing with her three (also) uninvited brothers, straining to hear through their extendable ears. They usually didn't pick up much, but it felt good to be making an effort.

Molly Weasley cast one last spell, and Ginny felt a wave of air that was at least a few degrees cooler. "Would you like a glass of water, dear?"

Ginny nodded gratefully. "That'd be great, Mum." Even with the charms in place, she could feel a drop of sweat rolling down the back of her neck. Mrs. Weasley bustled from the room, leaving her alone. She picked up the book to her left with a sigh. _Ancient Fungi and the Risks it Encompasses. _She didn't have any interest in magical fungi or how to be rid of it, but it was more alluring than the plethora of dark instruction manuals she had found in the Black library.

She tried to immerse herself into the world of fungi, but she couldn't get past the first few sentences before drifting off into her mind. For the past week, Ginny had been worrying herself sick. Her coming year at Hogwarts - her sixth - was going to be the most dangerous yet. You-Know-Who's reign of terror was falling down upon the wizarding world, and people were starting to panic. Even her best friends - the Patil twins - were being moved to America by their parents. From what she heard the Order muttering about, it was going to be far worse this time around.

The snippets of top-secret information she picked up in the past few weeks were not sounding good. There were attacks on families, burning buildings, strange disappearances, and countless Dark Mark sightings. At first, Ginny and her brothers had been stunned; they'd never been let in on the dirty details, so they were unfamiliar with the intensity of war. By now, weeks had passed, and the shock was numbing. She heaved another deep sigh. She wasn't ever fully immersed in it, and the war was already taking a toll on her.

A sharp tap at the door to Grimmauld Place elicited a jump in her heartbeat. Her mind raced, trying to take a headcount of who was there. There were only six people who stayed overnight, and all of whom belonged to their family. After a house fire in the days before summer began, they had moved into Headquarters as a temporary place to stay. Her mother was in the kitchen, her three older brothers were somewhere in the upper levels of the building, and her father had left for work less than an hour ago. It could be an Order member, but there was an unspoken agreement that they didn't come unless it was a meeting day. But then again, it could be an emergency.

Another tap sounded, this one quieter. Ginny pushed herself from her chair and peered out of the window. There didn't seem to be anyone there. Drawing her wand, she pushed the door open only to be met with a force and a large '_oomph_.' She let out a small shriek as a figure collapsed inside the door, gliding through the seemingly non-existent wards. "Mum!" She hollered. "Fred! George! Ron!"

The platinum hair, though matted with blood, could only belong to one person. His head lolled back, and she found herself looking into the unconscious face of Draco Malfoy. "Mum!" She screamed again. A crash sounded behind her, and she turned to see her mother, wand out and water glass broken on the floor. She swept forward, a resilient look on her face.

"What happened?" Her voice was hard, and she pulled his body gently from Ginny's arms. In the last war, Ginny knew that she'd trained as a Healer. She hadn't taken advantage of her skills since, but her comfort in the current situation was obvious.

"I don't - I don't know," she said, trying hard to keep her voice steady as she watched her mother waving her wand in circles over his body. "There was a knock, and - and no one's supposed to be able to come to the front steps without being shown there...I thought it was…" she trailed off, seeing that Mrs. Weasley wasn't giving her much attention.

"Broken ribs, head wound, broken arm, possible internal bleeding, and nerve damage," she muttered to herself, still moving in circles. "Ginny, dear, close the door."

She did as she was told, shaking more and more as she studied Malfoy further. He looked _terrible_ - blood everywhere, and his clothes were ripped to shreds. On top of that, his body couldn't seem to stop quivering. "Mum...why's he shaking like that?"

"Cruciatus," she replied heavily. Her wand spun in circles, golden cords moving into his body. "We saw a lot of that last time. The shaking only goes on for about an hour afterwards, until the nerves calm down. He seems to have been under it for over twenty minutes, though, and it might take longer. Hopefully there won't be permanent nerve damage." Ginny put her hand over her mouth, horrified. "Call for your brothers. We need more hands."

Backing away from the scene, she fled down the hall to the bottom of the stairs. "Fred! George! Ron! We need you. Now!" Within seconds, three redheads peaked around the corner.

"What is it, Gin?" George asked worriedly.

"J-just come," she bit out. "It's important." Ignoring their questions, she led them back to the entry way. She heard two deep intakes of breath and a low, "bloody hell."

"Is that-"

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley cut Ron off. "That's Draco Malfoy. Now, you listen here - I don't care how much you hate him; you're not going to let him die. Fred, get me a bowl of water and a cloth. George, he's about your size. Later on you'll get him clothes For now, work on getting his shoes off. Ron, fetch me a blood replenishing potion from the store room. Ginny, I'm going to need you to help me. You know how to heal broken bones, yes?" She nodded. "Okay, I'm going to need you to mend his arm and those two broken ribs. I know you don't have much experience, but you need to keep a clear head. Okay, dear?" She nodded again.

Two of her brothers hustled out towards the back of the house, while George worked on wrestling him out of his loafers. Her mother continued shooting gold strings into Malfoy, which she figured was healing the internal damage. Ginny took a deep breath and glanced at his face. Even though he wasn't conscious, it twisted in pain. She never would have thought she'd say it, but she was worried about him. She mustered up all her courage and poked her wand onto his left arm. "_Brackium Emendo_," she said. With a silver spark, the arm rightened itself instantly. She almost didn't believe it. But sure enough, a closer inspection proved that the bone was fixed.

"Wow, Gin," George said without a trace of humor, "that was pretty bloody cool."

She agreed, if she wasn't so stressed, she would've wanted to do a celebratory victory lap in honor of her first healing charm. But Malfoy let out a pained moan and flailed his arms towards his chest, and she went back to work. "Mum? Why's he flailing like that?"

Mrs. Weasley looked stressed - she had the same little crease between her eyebrows that Ginny got. "I think the rib is worse than I originally thought. Ginny, George, I need you to hold down his arms please." Ginny's wand clattered to the floor as she moved to Malfoy's side. It was so strange, she thought as she took her place, to see him in that way. Her whole life, he'd seemed so cold, almost inhuman in the way that his emotions were unreadable. Here, on the freezing wood floor in the entry hall, every emotion was readable on his features.

While her mother healed him, she felt her eyes drawn to his face. She was realizing that she'd never _actually_ looked at Draco Malfoy before. When they'd fought, she hadn't seen the little scar by his left earlobe, or the way that the tip of his nose turned up, or that he had a widow's peak that was barely noticeable. "Fred, put that down here." She broke her gaze and glanced at her mother.

"Are you done?" She queried. After the first time, he hadn't tried to move too much.

"I think so."

Ginny turned back in time to meet Malfoy's suddenly open eyes. His _yellow _eyes. She yelped, and released his arm. But he blinked, and she examined his icy grey eyes. "Malfoy! Your eyes were - they were yellow!"

He struggled to sit up, but Molly shoved him back down again. "I think you're going mad, Weasley," he said hoarsely. "My eyes are grey." It lacked the bite, which probably wasn't a surprise seeing that he almost died.

"Well, ferret," one of the twins said, patting his foot, "we just saved your bloody life. It's been swell, but now I really would like to know how the hell you got in here."

"Language, George! And let the boy breathe," Molly scolded gently. Ginny scoffed, knowing fully well that her mother had the mouth of a sailor when she was in a mood. Ignoring the interjection, everyone leaned forward.

"Yeah, Malfoy." Ron popped around the corner, clutching a little bottle. She flinched, knowing fully that no matter the reason Malfoy was here, Ron would try to kill him. Frankly, she didn't blame him - the Slytherin was a git. "I'd like to know the reason you've popped in here unannounced."

He pushed himself past Molly's arms and onto his feet. "I'm sitting down. You can't expect me to sit on the floor like a child." He wavered, catching his balance against the wall. Glancing in doorways, he let himself into the room Ginny occupied earlier. His foot seemed to give way and Ginny, without thinking, grabbed on to his arm. He yanked it away, giving her an exasperated look. "Look, Weasley. I know you're trying to help and everything, but I can walk without assistance. I haven't needed help before, and I don't need it now."

Ginny crossed her arms. "Fine, then. I'll just let you run yourself into the bloody wall."

He shoved past her, collapsing into an armchair. Ginny and the rest of the Weasley's filled in the chairs. She could hear Ron's angry muttering, but Malfoy smartly ignored him. "Quit with the melodrama," Fred groaned, "and get on with your story."

Malfoy shot him a pointed glare, and continued. "The Dark Lord -"

"You know," Ron interrupted coldly, "Only his followers call him that."

"Well, Weasel," he retorted dryly, "what did you think I've been doing all these years? Training kittens?" Ginny punched her brother's shoulder before he could respond. He was exhausting. "Anyways," Malfoy said grouchily, "The Dark Lord is cleansing his followers. Finding out who's loyal, and who can't be trusted. Obviously, he put me in the latter category."

Ron let out a bark of laughter. "Wow, was he wrong. Even I know better than that."

Ginny's eyes darted to the Slytherin's in time to see the darkening of his expression. She felt like she was watching a Quidditch match. "I'm obviously not surprised that your skull is that thick, Weasel, but can you see me supporting a madman?"

Before any of her children could respond, Molly raised her hand. "Please, Ronald. Let Draco finish."

"If I'm stopped one more time, I'll have you know that I won't finish." Malfoy cleared his throat. "There was a meeting. I'm sure your Gryffindor ears don't want to hear the gory details, but the Dark Lord gave a long oration about loyalty, and lack thereof. He gave us some BS about a prodigy he hopes to obtain, and then boom. He dropped about ten names - the disloyal ones. Merlin, it was like a bloody free-for-all. Snape was able to get me out the back, and he shoved this address into my hand. But he didn't have time to tell me anything except that it's your headquarters before my father found me." He scowled. "And don't go thinking I want to be part of your merry band of miscreants. I'm only here until Snape finds me a safe house."

Ginny frowned. "But how did you get so bloody beat up?"

Malfoy looked at her. "My father, obviously."

She raised her eyebrows, but didn't comment. It wasn't a surprise, really, seeing that his father was Lucius Malfoy. But the flat tone of his voice suggested that it wasn't the first time this had happened, which took her by surprise. From all of the times he'd dropped his father's name, she would've thought they had a better relationship than that. She couldn't help but feel a shot of sadness. No matter how terrible Malfoy treated everyone, he didn't deserve a father that did that to him.

"I got out as quick as I could," he continued with a small scowl. "But his Cruciatus is pretty damn hard to get out of." Ginny couldn't help but winch, imagining the full wrath of Lucius Malfoy. It didn't escape his notice. "What, Weasley? Feeling sorry for me?"

She met his cold eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I am, actually."

His frown deepened. "Don't. It's a waste of time."

There was a quick silence, the Weasley's awkwardly glancing at each other. This Malfoy wasn't one that she was familiar with. He was biting back his insults, and acting borderline polite. Molly broke it, nodding at him. "Do go on, dear. How did you get here in that state?"

"I apparated. Ended up on the bloody doorstep, and that's the last I remember. The end. Is there somewhere I can sleep?" He ended abruptly, standing on his wavering feet.

"Not here," Ron bit out scathingly.

"Ronald!"

"No, mum. I won't have it!" He stood and stuck a finger against the other boy's chest. "I will _not _sleep under the same roof as him. He's a Death Eater! Does no one else see that!"

The twins nodded. "He's got a point," George agreed. "I mean, he might've been been kicked out, but what if that's a lie? Do you think he's telling the truth?"

"Yes, I do," the Weasley matriarch said. "We can have him tested at the meeting tomorrow. But tonight, just let him sleep! Can't you see he's almost falling over? Even if he wanted to, he couldn't hurt a fly right now."

Malfoy shot her a glare. "Like hell I couldn't."

"You're not helping yourself, Malfoy," Ginny tisked. "Just be quiet." She wanted to kick herself for that - why the hell was she supporting Draco-Bleeding-Malfoy?

"Make me." She raised an eyebrow.

"Mature," she replied. "Now shut your mouth before I decide to help Ron drag your sorry behind out onto the grass."

"Manners, Ginny!" Molly cried. "Not another word, from any of you. Ginny, take him to the guest room, the one next to Sirius' old room. George, go fetch him some of your things for him to wear. Then I don't want any of you going near his room - he needs to rest."

Ginny rolled her eyes, not questioning why her mother was being so kind to a Malfoy, of all people. Her motherly instincts reached out towards everyone, even ex-Death Eaters. "Come on, then," she muttered. She left the room without looking behind her. They went up the stairs without talking, and she led him into one of the oldest looking rooms in the house. "You'll probably have to tidy it up a bit." She gestured around at the dust and grime that seemed to coat the essence of the room. She moved towards the door.

"Wait." His voice sounded almost normal again, losing the polite tone he'd taken on downstairs. He crossed his arms. "Get me a glass of water."

She raised her eyebrows defiantly. "Well, Malfoy. There you go. All back to normal, treating everyone like your house elf. Stick a please on there, and I might consider it."

He snorted, lowering himself onto the dusty bed. "Fat chance of that, Weasel."

"Then no dice." She turned to leave, but thought of something. "Malfoy, tell me why your eyes turned yellow."

"They didn't, you moron. It was all in your head" The guarded look in his eyes confirmed it - he knew something and he wasn't saying it.

"Fine, whatever you say." She returned to her own room, still reeling with the knowledge that Draco Malfoy was sleeping down the hall from her. He'd been acting strange, and she'd almost forgotten how much she hated him. But settling onto her bed, it all flooded back to her - the remembrance of insults, digs at their money, and sheer idiocy of him was enough to make her blood boil. She decided that she'd had a momentary lapse of judgement from the shock of his body falling through the doorway that had made her forget everything he'd ever done for their family. She considered marching back downstairs and demanding that he be removed from the house, but thought better of it. No matter how uncharacteristically polite he decided to be at dinner, she wasn't going to have any of him.

Author's Note: Prologue out! Hopefully I'll be able to update around once a week, and the chapters will be longer than the prologue. I'm in high school, so I'm going to do my best with time management and hopefully save lots of time for writing.


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